Selfishness
by Takigawa Aki
Summary: There are many responsibilities to being the boss of a large mafia family. There are just as many awful consequences for the failure to uphold these responsibilities. Dino would do anything to stop his lover from suffering but he is only human. D18 TYL


So I've written this twice. My USB drive went haywire and started corrupting all my files! Fff! I lost several edits and, most dear, the original file of this! So this is a rewrite. Grr! KHRFest again. And I will be spamming with all the prompts I've written at night while doing school during the day. Tata!~

**Prompt: **TYL!Dino/TYL!Hibari – dangerous and moving; "'cause you're a criminal as long as you're mine" (KHRFest)

**Selfishness**

"Dance with me."

That was all that needed to be said. The hand that reached up to take his was pale, the fingers long and slender, elegant despite the calluses, as a lover's hands always are. The man stood lithely, his face a mask of careful detachment, his eyes warm and silver. It was selfish to bring him to these places but coming alone was almost terrifying. Everything was so much more solid with this man here beside him, arm in his, stepping towards the dance floor and avoiding making any meaningful eye contact. This was a feeling of rightness far more than to be here on his own.

To be at a ball on his own, Dino was placing himself on a silver platter for every woman who sought the prestige and the money of the first lady of the mafia family. He was at the mercy of every well-meaning father who mentioned his daughter in the hopes of a political, or even romantic, marriage. Even to be approached by men who knew of his particular tastes and thought to try their hands at the tenth _don_ of the Cavallone family.

But when Kyouya was there beside him, as he was every moment that he came here with Dino, there was not that problem. Perhaps a few pointed looks, a couple of hinting comments, but these could be brushed off without rudeness. And though no one would dare to mention aloud that the _don _had a male lover, especially that they had been lovers for so long now, they usually respected that they ought not to approach him with Kyouya beside him.

This was the only way he could get the Japanese man to come with him to something so romantic, anyway. The dancing, though he was superb, was unattractive to Kyouya—wasted movement, to him. The music was dull and listless, the people milling about like sheep, hoping all to gain social benefits, to make partnerships that would bring them money and power. It was the way of the upper class no matter where it was. This was a ball. But Dino really did wish sometimes that he could just forget that and appreciate the opportunity to lean against his chest, their fingers entwined, their gazes locked together as they moved in tandem, something as sensual as intimacy that couldn't be broken. But that was why it was selfish to ask Kyouya to be here; he did not appreciate this, and thus it was only an inconvenience.

He seemed to sense that the blonde was thinking this, too, as they began to twirl about the floor, every step measured and flawless, elegant and synchronized perfectly, because, to his lover's surprise, he leaned upwards with the same unreadable expression and pressed their lips together softly. Dino began to break the kiss, expecting only a peck, but Kyouya kept him from doing it, drawing out the touch, their dance continuing as if uninterrupted, as if their minds weren't completely elsewhere as they kissed, mindless to the whisperings or disdainful looks of those around them. Forget the scandal and the resentful way people looked at them, at Kyouya; he could taste his lover and everything was as it should be.

That was what he thought about now. That night.

It was kind of scary how one's mind wandered when under the worst of pressure.

A loud bang and the screech of brick and sparks made him flinch away from the corner, pistol in hand and pointed at the sky, held easily and professionally. It was an extension of his arm. His suit was rumpled, dust on his knees, but he paid no mind. The pool of red was quickly growing beside him, and his brows furrowed in distress as he glanced down at Kyouya to check that he was still awake.

The gunshot was to his leg, and it was obvious that the main artery there had been hit. The blood just wouldn't stop no matter how Kyouya pressed his hand against it, and the pressure seemed to be slacking as his strength drained through the wound. Dino glanced around the tiny alley, only a few feet wide, one end a tall fence he couldn't get Kyouya over in time and the other the opening to the street upon which their assassin walked steadily closer, his boots easily audible as if he was too cocky to care. With a grimace the _don_ rammed the back of the pistol through a musty window, ignoring the cuts now opening on his hand, and grabbed a piece of glass to hold so he could see around the corner.

He was too close for Dino to show himself and shoot. The man would be on them in less than a minute if he didn't speed up his pace, and surely he would after hearing that shattering. A shrill alarm was blaring from inside of the shop, sure to draw the police. Swiftly he swept Kyouya into his arms, ignoring the mutter of protest and the way the man paled in pain as he kicked the last jagged edges of glass from the bottom of the window and ducked inside. He set him down gently beside a rack of pastries and dashed for the front door.

Luckily, there was no bell. Dino ducked outside, his gun held ready, and found the man turning now, just at that corner, about to get to the broken window and find Kyouya. There was no time to yell. There was no time to negotiate, to give warning. There was only time for cold blood.

His finger tightened on the trigger and the pistol jerked in his grip but his arms did not waver, well accustomed to the kick. Red sprayed the wall, the back of the anonymous man's head a mess of broken flesh and skull as he crumpled without a sound. There was nothing more. No more shots, no yells. Dino waited a moment, looking around for anyone else who may have been with him, but found he was alone on the street. Relieved but turning to an even more distressing situation he ducked back into the shop and knelt by the brunette, far paler than usual. This pool of blood was larger than the last and seemed to be growing faster. He dropped his pistol with an oblivious clatter and shrugged off his jacket, ignoring the shriek of the alarm as he pressed the jacket to the wound, gently pushing away Kyouya's hands, now soaked with crimson as if they'd been dyed.

The door opened and he fumbled with one hand for the pistol, spinning around to take aim, but found a familiar face and lowered the gun. "Medic!" Dino barked sharply, knowing he didn't need to waste words. Romario nodded sharply and pulled out his cell phone, his thumb pressing speed dial as he raised it to his ear and came over to check Kyouya's pulse. His frown showed that he did not like what he found, though the man's chest still rose and fell with breath and his eyelids flickered as he fought to stay awake.

"Hang on to my voice," Dino whispered urgently. "Kyouya. Don't go to sleep. Look at the light from the window and focus on it. Don't let it go away. Just follow my voice, alright, Kyouya?" His tone was tight, troubled, but pushing to stay in control. With a blood transfusion and some surgery Kyouya would be fine. This would only be a bad dream in a few days when the ornery Japanese would be up and about, ignoring orders to stay off of his leg, acting as if nothing had happened. If only the medics would get here quicker!

Though it must not have been five minutes it felt like eternity as he continued to murmur, trying to hold his lover's gaze, raising his voice whenever he seemed to begin to fade, pressing a little harder to the wound when he continued to get paler and paler. Romario ran back inside, two men behind him, a stretcher between them and one holding a large kit. He almost melted in relief but still it took a Herculean effort to pull his hands away from Kyouya's leg. Now he was dyed as well, and the sight of the man's blood, of so much of it, sent a violent shudder down his spine.

Romario tried to pull him away gently so the two could more easily do their job but he refused to leave his side. After a moment he swung his legs back over the windowsill, only vaguely noticing the scarlet splatter on the wall opposite and the body left only feet away. His attention was on Kyouya, who now sat with the low wall between them, but this way he could be close without hindering the medics. Ignoring the glass that crackled under his feet or the shards still in the window that tore at his shirt, drawing blood on his body, he bent over to take one of the man's hands, distressed by how cold it was, and held it tightly. A small squeeze in return nearly brought tears of relief to his eyes, but now was not the time to cry. That could be while they brought him to the hospital, while they performed surgery, while Kyouya couldn't see him to be worried about it or to chide his emotions.

With his other hand he was gently stroking the man's cheek, Dino still bent down so he could continue to whisper, continue to urge him into wakefulness, continue to be the lifeline. "Kyouya," he whispered, "I want you to keep looking at the light. Keeping holding onto my voice and listening to what I say, and keep following the sound. Don't go to sleep."

That night. It was one of the many that had brought this on, it had to be, but he could not think of it in a negative light. That kiss was one of the blissful, happiest moments of his life, a preciously rare few seconds where he had not a care in the world. It was one of the moments that made people dislike Kyouya even more, though Dino remained oblivious to it. Maybe it was one reason the man hated those balls so much. Did he feel the glares, did the hairs on the back of his neck prickle when people whispered about him behind their hands, did he shiver when a particularly vicious word was spoken or look was given? It hurt to think so but he could imagine it now and it seemed almost the truth.

Romario drove the Lincoln behind the ambulance, sympathetically quiet as Dino brooded in the back seat. Kyouya had been hurt; his life had been in danger. Such a bright flame of life almost snuffed in only a few minutes. Such a strong man, so fiery, so persistent, so teeming with vigour, thriving so well as he finished the transformation from boy to man. A beautiful man with fire and ice in his eyes and the movements of a snake, quick and graceful, the will to live like a bright flame. The thought of that lost was physically painful.

The hospital smelt of chemicals and sterility, and that scent was the scent of passive deaths, where people went to die. But Kyouya was here to live, and Dino hoped he would. He was a fighter; he was strong; he was feisty. He had such incredible control over himself, over his body, that nothing could stand up to him when he put his mind to something. A bullet could not threaten that, not possibly.

He ached to touch that skin and press their lips together, to taste him and smell him and be comforted by his presence. That would mean that everything was alright. But his lover was lying in a bed surrounded by people in identical clothing, with masks over their faces and glasses over their eyes as they played God with his body, their hands covered in gloves smelling of the sterility of the hospital. What did it feel like to have someone touching places that were never meant to be touched, beneath the skin and in the veins, the fragile tissues that made life possible? To have muscle open to the air, the vulnerable flesh that made him so strong?

Romario stayed with him, never speaking but to offer him a bottle of water, which he gratefully accepted as he sat, his hands scrubbed and scrubbed in the bathroom until they were pink, but still better than that red. His shirt had been stained with it and he'd torn it off and thrown it into the trash, wearing only his trousers and a white tank top that showed all of his cuts from the glass as he sat, waiting, waiting, waiting. Romario left to get food but Dino had no appetite, doubted he would take a single bite, though he was thirsty. He refilled the bottle at a water fountain down the hall what seemed like a dozen times in the few hours he stayed there, sometimes sitting, sometimes pacing, his head always down and his gaze always on the white, lifeless tiles of the floor while his right-hand man's eyes followed him concernedly, though he was too clever to speak and break the _don's_ thought.

When the double doors opened to a man, slipping the medical mask from his face, peering at Dino through his glasses, Dino thought his heart would stop. The expression of the man was a cold one, one of mourning, that made him stare and his eyes widen and tears gather there. "What happened?" he demanded, his voice soft but his tone demanding, authoritative, as if he could order Kyouya's life to be saved.

"We did everything we could," the doctor began slowly, and it took all of his self-control not to sink his fingers into the man's neck and shake. He needed to know, _now_, how Kyouya was, what was going on. "Mr. Hibari is sleeping now and won't be awake for hours. He'll live." It took a moment for the words to sink in after he had imagined the worst for so long, but his heart leapt and his expression brightened, the tears that gathered suddenly of a different nature.

"But." No. Not that word. "He lost a lot of blood and he's never had a blood transfusion before. We can only hope that his body doesn't reject it. As for his leg, it was severely damaged. We repaired the artery and blood flow should be restored, but a lot of harm was done to the surrounding muscle." Harm? To those smooth lines of his thighs, the way he could see the ripple of his strength when he raised a leg to kick or stretched to run? "He'll probably walk in a few months with a cane. Maybe in a few years without." _Years. With a cane. _

"He'll never be able to run again," the doctor continued, so carefully oblivious to the way Dino's face fell more with every word. _That man._ His Kyouya. A cane? Unable to run? Dependent on something else besides himself, that strength withered? The loss was palpable like something he could reach out and touch but mostly he thought of Kyouya. So strong, so sure of himself, and _needing_ that strength, as dependent on it as anything. It was him; it defined him. It gave him purpose. He could not lose that. "I'm afraid he'll never be able to fight, either."

The doctor said the last tentatively and it took Dino a moment to wonder how he knew that Kyouya fought, but he realized the man must have seen the bruises and the old scars, maybe noticed old breaks that had since healed when they X-rayed his thigh to check that the bullet hadn't touched his bone. It didn't matter. Kyouya would lose himself, without that. Sometimes Dino wondered if he cared about himself at all; it was his body he cared about, his ability, stretching himself to the limit to be all that he could be. To be a carnivore. He couldn't be Kyouya without that.

The room they put him in was as sterile and lifeless as the hall. The chair was uncomfortable but he hardly noticed as he moved it closer to the bed so his knees touched it when he sat down and he could reach out to hold the man's hand in his own. He had to be careful of the wires, of the tubes, of the pulse monitor on Kyouya's finger and the IV in his arm and the back of his hand. The small lump of the bandage beneath the blanket kept drawing his eye but he continued to pull away from it, only staring at his face, hoping for a flicker, something that hinted at that old strength, that determination, that will to survive. But he only saw pale skin, saw a little moisture at the corners of the closed eyes, saw the plastic cup fog and clear with his breath. He couldn't bring himself to kiss that forehead one more time, to touch the coldness, the clamminess, of the skin that usually thrummed with warmth and vitality. It scared him.

When the breath quickened and his eyes flickered, Dino almost missed it, beginning to drowse. But a short intake of breath and the beeping of the heart monitor growing quicker pulled him dazedly to wakefulness and he found himself looking into the silver eyes he'd been wanting to see so badly. They were bloodshot but focused and Kyouya slowly raised an arm to take off the mask. Dino moved to stop him, immediately objecting, but a fierce look made him stop, watching in worry.

Kyouya's eyes roamed for a moment as he drew careful breaths, seeming to experiment with his arm. The other hand was still firmly in Dino's and he made no attempt to remove it. His gaze stopped on the bottle of water he'd set on the tiny table and Dino reached for it, almost knocking it off of the table in his haste, nearly spilling it as he hurried to open it. The brunette's look was one of chagrin, annoyed but amused, as though he was used to the antics of his lover. Dino offered the bottle and Kyouya took it in his free hand. For a moment it seemed he couldn't hold its weight, his hand shaking and his fingers clenching to keep his grip, but after a moment it settled and he raised the bottle to his lips.

He drank slowly, swallowing carefully, as though his throat hurt. Of course, it probably did. Dino thought every bit of him probably hurt now. Finally he handed the bottle back and Dino set it again on the table, not bothering to screw the cap back on, only staring at Kyouya attentively, looking for any sign that he would take a turn for the worse or that he would miraculously get better. The man's eyes fell onto the blanket, where his leg was laid out straight, the bandage a lump that was out of place. Dino bit his lip, wondering if somehow Kyouya knew. Just how badly his leg was hurt. By the way he looked back at Dino quickly, not bothering to pull back the blanket and see, it seemed as if he must know, somehow sense it. The thought pained him.

As she did every hour, a nurse stepped in and she jumped when she saw Kyouya sitting up, awake and lucid. She rounded on Dino as she hurried to the IV, looking alarmed. "You should have used the button and called for a nurse!" she scolded quickly, running back to the door to call for someone else. "He needs pain medicine now that he's awake."

"No." His voice was hoarse, but the word was understandable enough. Kyouya gave her a clear look and she hesitated but reluctantly shook her head at the doctor who had hurried over. Dino knew what he meant. Every time he was hurt he rejected pain medication. He thought that pain was a message from the body; it was meant to be felt. To ignore it was to neglect the body, to weaken its bond with the mind. Pain medication dulled the senses, made him sleepy, and he wanted to be awake. He hated being vulnerable. The lazy confusion of drowsiness would be far worse than the pain.

"Give us a moment, please," Dino said softly. She frowned but, after a look at the monitors and a disbelieving glance at Kyouya, left. He squeezed the man's hand softly and looked back at his face to find his own gaze met levelly. That strength, that clarity of will. "Kyouya."

His head tilted a little in response but otherwise he gave no reply, waiting for him to continue.

Dino leaned forward to kiss him, pleased at the warmth of his breath and the familiar taste of his lips. "Kyouya," he sighed gently, "I need to tell you something." Again, no response but for a slow blink, a small twitch of an eyebrow. "It's about your leg. Do you remember what happened?"

"Mm." Kyouya's lips thinned for a moment but his expression returned to normal just as quickly. He looked expectantly at the blonde, waiting for more.

"It will…well…" It was tempting to have a doctor explain it, but he couldn't do that. Kyouya meant too much to him. This had happened because of him, because of his selfishness when he had to take his lover to the balls, show him off, declare himself off-limits to anyone who wanted a try at the Cavallone family's bachelor boss because of this man sitting in front of him with his expectant silver eyes. "It will take months to walk, Kyouya," he whispered, unable to make his voice any louder, as if to speak it audibly was to make it true. "And…and years to walk without help. But you're never going to…"

His throat closed abruptly and he couldn't force any more words for a long moment. The man's expression hadn't changed but there was something in his eyes. Like a certain resignation. Had he already sensed this? He looked away for a moment, towards the window and the dusk outside. Then his gaze returned to Dino though he said nothing. Still he seemed to be waiting.

And he needed to keep talking, so he swallowed the lump and made himself speak. "I'm so sorry, baby," he exclaimed suddenly. "It's my fault. But I'll be here every moment if you want me to. I'll take good care of you. Because you're with me, this happened, and I accept full responsibility. You won't want for anything—"

He barely saw the pale flash of movement before something collided with his cheek and Dino stared in amazement, both taken aback at the slap and the power behind it. Kyouya straightened his back a little, mouth a thin line, his eyes half-lidded but gleaming angrily. He didn't need to say anything. The blonde was quiet for a long time as well, their gazes locked as each slowly returned to an equilibrium. His cheek stung but it felt good; it meant Kyouya had the strength to hit him like that, right after waking up. The doctor might have underestimated him. Maybe he would walk sooner, would even run, maybe even _recover…_

"You're right," he murmured with a sad smile. "You won't let me take care of you because only you will do that. Right?" His voice was resigned.

Kyouya dipped his chin a little, looking mollified, but still irritated.

"But it's still my fault."

This time he was ready and he caught the hand that flew at his face. Dino interlaced their fingers, giving the Japanese man a fond look. "I'm the one who insisted that you let our relationship be known. I could have just continued to turn down suitors. But I wanted to show you off and it made you the middle of all of this drama. To everyone else, Kyouya, you are a criminal for as long as you're mine."

"Idiot."

He blinked at the accusation, though he didn't flinch from the steely look he was receiving. "What?"

"You couldn't have made me do it if you tried," he muttered, looking indignant at the notion. "I did it because I consented." Kyouya paused, catching his breath, and he gave a little nod at the water bottle again. Dino let go of one of his hands and got it for him. After a few short sips Kyouya cleared his throat experimentally and nodded. "Without my agreement none of that would have happened."

It took a moment for what he said to make sense. Then Dino laughed. He couldn't hold it back, and the annoyed look he earned only made him laugh harder. He bent over, his forehead touching the edge of the mattress, shoulders shaking. It was true that Kyouya wouldn't have let him do any of that if he didn't agree, but still, Dino had been the one to push. He was the one who knew the mafia world and that his lover would be in danger and yet he had _allowed_ Kyouya to agree. And again, Kyouya did exactly what he wanted. There was no such thing as allowing him to do something. It was a surprising puzzle that he knew he needed to work out but didn't want to now.

"And taking care of you?" he asked when the mirth had passed, leaving him breathless for a couple of minutes but feeling immensely renewed. Kyouya seemed irritated at first but shrugged.

"I'll allow you to help," he muttered passively, gaze once again on the window. "But I'll kick your ass once my leg's better. Deal?"

He grinned. If Kyouya was so sure he would make a full recovery then it had to be true. He knew his own body better than any doctor. "Deal."

Kyouya must have agreed when he leaned forward to kiss him, because he certainly didn't stop him.


End file.
